Page 111 of Ashen Wings

“Saphine said Samkiel had ten soldiers with him. You held your ground.” His palm cups my cheek, eyes rallying between mine. “You survived. That’s good enough.”

I swallow the bile lodged at the back of my throat and lean into his touch. Even if we left things on terrible terms, even if he’d been an asshole, I can’t help it.

His warmth is one I crave, one I’m addicted to. I’ve fallen into his orbit, time and again, but I’m not fighting the gravity.

Not anymore.

“Thank you for ensuring I didn’t die,” I whisper, my throat gripping the words.

“It was my honor.”

We’re quiet for a while, lost in our own haunted darkness. Jace’s room isn’t nearly as glamorous as the bedchambers back home, but it’s far more livable than my own. Linen drapes rustle in from a half-cracked window, wisping through the sunlit air. Save for Jace’s pack, the room is barren, empty. And yet it’s never felt so full.

A single chair sits by the door connecting our rooms. Its desk rests vacant against the opposite wall. My lip twitches. “Standing guard over me, King Ashborne?”

Jace's neck cranes over his shoulder, and without returning his eyes to mine he says, “Always.”

What was meant to be an innocent jest now grips my heart. I stare at my hands, picking a hangnail forming on my thumb.

“You don’t have to withhold around me, you know,” I murmur.

“Yes, I do. You don’t know what I’m capable of, what I’ve done to those that get too close,” he replies, his voice hushed.

“Then tell me. Why keep all of these secrets? You don’t think the blood on my hands is just as thick as yours? I’m a fucking mercenary, Jace, not some fragile little thing so easily broken.” The blanket knots in my fists.

“No. Some things are better left alone.” He bears his teeth. “I’ve told you before I won’t risk losing control. Not with you.”

“And I’ve told you before, I don’t need to be babied. Give me your worst. Let me see everything. I alone decide how much I can take.”

“You’re smarter than this, Nova. I’m the worst type of nightmare, why would you willingly put yourself in danger?” His voice wavers.

“Because I’m not running. Whatever is between us isn’t something I can ignore anymore, and neither can you.” My words are far more steady in their resolve than the frantic beat in my chest.

“Enough, starling,” he says, warning threaded in his tone.

I’m past the point of caring, though. If last night was proof enough, life is fleeting. Our continent is brutal and deadly, stealing what little time we’re granted. I’m done running from what I know with my whole damned being to be true.

Jace Ashborne is the warmth I crave and the darkness I deserve. His broken mirrors mine in every way. We are two nightmares, molded from loneliness, and fighting against these instincts is exhausting.

“This self-loathing act is as tiresome as it is pathetic, Jace Ashborne,” I hiss.

His eyes darken. The room stills. The outside world quiets. Even the faintest of creaks is damn near deafening as he washes his gaze over me.

“And your hypocritical one is exhausting,” he says.

“You’re being cruel.” Something splits through my breath, and tears pool behind my eyes. He’s right, but that doesn’t lessen the blow. How can I speak of self-loathing as if I don’t hate every piece of myself? All I’ve known is mistrust, betrayal, violence. But I’m tired of running.

I’ve fought so long to be here, in this moment of utter change, and I can’t walk away. Not from him.

Anguish flickers over Jace’s face, but only for a heartbeat. Then there’s nothing but cold, stony indifference. “It’s better for you to hate me, Nova.”

My jaw cramps. “You want to know the difference between you and I?”

“Don’t push me, Nova Lindwen,” he growls.

“Then stop fucking hiding, Jace Ashborne.”

He leans into my space, brushing his brow against mine. “I said, don’t push me.”